


This Won't Wash

by SecondFromTheRight



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Other, Shane's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 12:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12557736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondFromTheRight/pseuds/SecondFromTheRight
Summary: “Everybody thinks I’m…” he started again as he chanced looking up at her, but she was staring back at him. There it was. That look. That was how she did it, how she affected everybody. There was just something that burned right through. A rawness, a power that you never would know unless up close like this. He wanted to unburden himself through her, but he swallowed his words. He felt his heart pick up and he lowered his eyes again, hiding, out of guilt and shame. He didn’t think he could still feel those things, didn’t think he could still choose to feel those things.The scene of Shane washing Carol's hands.





	This Won't Wash

**Author's Note:**

> I always thought this scene was so underappreciated. It's one of my favourites.

He’d seen her take more shit than near anyone. Every day, every night that waste of breath husband of hers would make her life miserable. Shane had tried to help sometimes, offer some kind of refuge, an out, but she’d never cracked from the routine of her life. But he’d never seen her like this, stumbling out of the woods and wandering towards him like a walker herself, spaced out and lifeless. She had dirt all over her. They'd lived life without plumbing for months now but Carol had always kept herself clean and tidy, more than the rest of them. This wasn't her.

“Hey,” He greeted quietly, calling her name when she didn’t respond. “Carol,” he tried again but still she was despondent, not acknowledge him at all as she continued walking forwards.

He stepped in front of her path. “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey” he soothed. He held his hands out, creating something of a circle around her as she wordlessly attempted to side-step him. He tried to catch her eyeline but she kept her head bowed. “Are you alright?” He asked, risking putting his hand on the lower of her back. She stilled against him but didn’t reject him.

“Yeah.” She murmured, the barest sound, almost just breathed out.

“Come here. Let me.” He offered still with his hand on her back. She eventually let him guide her towards the water pump, sitting her down on the step.

Grabbing the bucket he’d filled minutes before, he went down on one knee in front of her. He dipped his hands in the pail, cupping drops of water and took her hands in his as he started to clean her up. Pressing at her inner elbow, rubbing away the dirt on her skin as the water washed over both of them, his own hands filthy and stained. He wiped the water down the insides of her forearms, trying to get rid of the mud.

She'd taken so much shit but he’d seen how fiercely she’d protected that girl of hers, always keeping her apart from her husband. There was still strength there, determination and will – to look after her daughter if not herself. And the way she’d chewed out Rick on that highway – he’d known his partner in a number of messed up, intense moments, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him look that cut before. She’d affected the man. Hell, she’d even managed to goes a way to taming Daryl Dixon, prompting some kind of protectiveness and unbelievably, honour, out of the redneck. He'd looked for that kid with a careful, focused mind that Shane hadn’t witnessed from him before. Sticking up for the woman in front of him now – against him, no less. Daryl was gunning for a fight all the damn time, happy for an excuse to blow up, but this had been different. He’d been defending something in a whole new way that Shane didn’t think any Dixon was capable of. And the way he’d caught her and held her at the barn; she'd made Daryl Dixon want to step up and be something good for someone else for christ sake.

She could do that, bring something out in others, make others feel and react, want to be good – despite how beaten down, how invisible she could be, how invisible she made herself, she still had power. He didn't know if she knew she had it, but he saw it like others did. Now she was doing it to him, stirring up that moral goodness Shane thought this world and all the new shit it brought with it had taken outta him. He wanted to help her. Wanted her to know he didn’t mean for this to happen. He thought he might need it, need her to know, to hear him.

“I want you to know that I’m real sorry for your girl.” He told her, trying to start an understanding, a connection, something. She was so quiet, the only sounds were the splash of the water, some birds and insects some ways away and his own breathing. But she sat there, holding her arm out to him.

“Thank you.” She finally said, accepting his condolences and breaking the silence. But she was still refusing to look at him, instead staring down at their hands. First real words he’d heard outta her mouth. He’d been looking for understanding but thanking him? Jesus. He knew he didn’t deserve that. Maybe it was automatic for her – maybe he was no different than Ed to her. Saying whatever she thought was expected to keep peace. She didn’t have anything to fight for now, had lost the one thing she had. Shane had killed a man who got in the way of him trying to save a kid that wasn’t his. He couldn’t imagine how Carol felt right now. Lost her flesh and blood, seeing her little girl like that. If it had been Carl – he couldn’t.

He washed her fingers, one by one, trying to get rid of the dirt on her skin. The grimy water ran over his own hands as he went. He wasn’t like Ed – he wasn’t. He’d have kept Carol and her girl safe. He would have. He – damnit.

“When I opened that barn, I had no idea.” He promised. “If I did…” he cut himself off. If he did, what? He’d have done it differently? He worked his way up her bare arms, picking thorns and seeds off her, focusing on his task instead of meeting her eyes.

“Everybody thinks I’m…” he started again as he chanced looking up at her, but she was staring back at him. There it was. That look. That was how she did it, how she affected everybody. There was just something that burned right through. A rawness, an untapped power that you would never guess unless up close like this. He wanted to unburden himself through her, but he swallowed his words. He felt his heart pick up and he lowered his eyes again, hiding, out of guilt and shame. He didn’t think he could still feel those things, didn’t think he could still choose to feel those things.

He shook his head and concentrated on her fingers, the mud worked into her working-hands that was hard to budge without soap but he didn’t want to scrub her skin, didn’t want to hurt her. He felt that. It was worth something right? To actively not want to hurt someone? He wanted to be gentle. Wanted to be good, protect, care for, to cleanse. It was what he was made for, made of, deep down. Always had been. Protect and serve.

He flicked his eyes up to her again. “I was just trying to keep everybody safe.” He defended, trying to explain – explain why; why he did anything he did these days. She didn’t say anything. Was he seeking absolution from this woman? What a dick move. He couldn’t even say he’d have done something different if he had known Sophia was in there. Would he have? He rubbed his thumb against her wrist, could feel her pulse-point against his fingers as he worked the water against her. Steady. This beaten down woman was stronger than him – better, probably, too. A mess was going on inside him. An ugly swirl of brutality and question, loneliness and drive. A pity, for himself, seeking some kind of redemption, for himself. But she’d lost everything and her presence was still and clear, quiet and calm.

Stilling his movement he slotted her hands with his, almost holding it. The cold, fresh water dripped from them as he looked up at her again, now glad she was looking back at him. “I had no idea she was in there.” He said. The only thing of truth he could speak right now. He held her eye for some moments, silently pleading she’d take his word. She looked away first. He watched her for a moment further, hoping for something, but she kept her eyes down. She wouldn’t give him it; that will of hers showing itself. He carried on his task of trying to wash away the dirt from her skin, wanting it to count for something. He didn’t have anything else to give her.


End file.
